


Stop! Foul Villain!

by Ambiguous_Situation



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Pining, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 12:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18916765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambiguous_Situation/pseuds/Ambiguous_Situation
Summary: Heroes and Villains are a normal fact of life. Magic too. So when Jester comes upon a strange joke shop ran by an equally strange shopkeep, of course she takes that chance to be more than a museum assistant!But will she be able to keep her double life a secret from that new ship historian’s cute son? And why does it seem like he’s hiding something too?





	1. Chapter 1

_Maybe_ she bit off more than she could chew.

This hero stuff didn’t come easy to most, and Jester Lavorre was no exception. Although she had taken the initiative to practice her newfound magic in secret, putting her skills to the test in real life was a whole different animal altogether. Her powers, like some of the more famous heroes of team Vox Machina, were gifted to her.

 ***

There was a joke shop set up just on the corner of 10th. It had never been there before, which only made the dilapidated store front look even more out of place in comparison to the rest of the nearby various places of business.

Logically, Jester just _had_ to take a peek inside.

There was a man, or so they seemed, behind the register. Adorned in a green cloak that looked as old as the store front itself, and a face completely obscured by the curiously dimmed overhead lights. The mysterious figure smiled at their new customer.

“Oh, curious little one,” their voice was soft but deep in tone. There was a warmth to it.

Almost like an old friend.

“What brings you here?”

“I’ve lived here all my life, and I don’t think I’ve seen _you_ around before,” Jester grinned as her eyes flashed a burning curiosity at the intriguing stranger.

“Well, since you’re my first customer, allow me to present you a gift.”

A hand vanished beneath the cloak, and as quick as a flash, a tiny golden charm appeared almost out of thin air.

“A lollipop?!” she exclaimed with obvious excitement.

“Not to eat of course, but keep this safe.”

Gingerly, the young girl held out her hands to catch the tiny charm. A bright smile formed on Jester’s face.

“No price?”

“No price.”

“What do I call you?”

There was a playful pause and then an even wider grin, “for you, my dear?”

Jester nodded fervently.

“The Traveler.”

The joke shop disappeared seemingly overnight after that.

Jester tried recreating the entire day up until the ship appeared for her that afternoon several times in hopes of somehow conjuring the shop once more but to no avail. When her powers manifested only a week after receiving the charm, she wanted more than anything to speak to the Traveler again.

Her parents, as far as she knew, weren’t magical users. Which meant having to be self taught. Jester wanted this to be her secret. A _surprise_ if you will.

It began with her snapping her fingers.

_Magic works like that right?_

Nothing happened. Jester frowned and clenched her fist around the tiny lollipop.

_Shoot._

A blast of pink suddenly exploded from her grip; nearly singeing her dyed blue bangs.

“Hookay!” The girl laughed brightly, “I can work with this!”

Playing pranks became easier than ever, unfortunately, her magic now took out most of the fun of building the contraptions with her own hands.

Jester’s pranks tended to have many moving parts.

Life went on, and her job as assistant to her mother, Marion, in the Museum of Creative Arts slowly settled back to mundane.

To call Jester absent minded would be an insult—and also possibly true.

Her head was always in the clouds so to speak. She had vivid dreams and wants that could only be satiated by fantastical media. Due to her mother’s illness, Jester’s childhood was incredibly sheltered, which left her plenty of time to absorb any kind of comic, movie, series, any form of storytelling she could get her hands on.

Naturally, after honing her powers for a year, when she found herself in a situation where she could use them to help someone—be a _hero—_ she took that chance.

Life was no longer mundane.

_Devil Princess_ was finally on the scene!

 ***

The name and costume were definitely spur-of-the-moment. Taking inspiration from her favorite heroes, Jester decided on a cutesy persona. Pink everywhere with ribbons and sparkles. She was a girly-girl at heart, but still tough as nails.

So when the would-be thief attempted to scurry past her, the left hook to the jaw was a bit of a surprise.

_Maybe I should’ve used magic to attack too_ , Devil Princess mused after the fact. But the bystander gave their thanks to the brightly dressed girl, and that seemed like it had been the right choice after all.

Being a new superhero after feeling out her powers in private for so long gave her a bit of an edge. However, this new foe that stood before her, with his menacingly green aura and bright yellow eyes, was not something she had been prepared for.


	2. Chapter 2

Fjord deDamali was what some people would consider _painfully shy_.

He was quiet and mostly kept to himself growing up due to the relentless bullying he faced until the gods smiled upon him, and decided his adolescence should be his reprieve. His jaw shaped up quickly, widening his face and setting his features into something more fitting, and his mouth began to curl a bit; pouting his lips slightly.

His adoptive father, Vandran, called him pretty.

Fjord only felt embarrassment at the attention he received. It was different, but still the same in some ways.

 _The accent doesn’t help_ , he thought bitterly.

Fjord spent most of his childhood in the UK. He found himself soaking up other children’s mannerisms in the orphanage in an attempt to make himself the same as everyone else.

Needless to say, this didn’t work, but it was a good try on his part.

It was a dreadfully welcome change when Vandran had been assigned as the resident seafaring historian to the nearby museum. He had seen the young boy outside tending to the orphanage’s garden as some sort of punishment that was very much undeserved.

“What’cha doin’ out here in the cold, son?” there was a cold gust of wind just then. The older man wrapped his overcoat around himself even tighter to retain some of his heat.

The young boy wasn’t faring any better.

“You should be inside,” Vandran continued with a smile. “Don’t wanna catch a cold, right?”

Fjord smiled too.

***

Falling into being a museum historian’s assistant was easy. The routine helped Fjord, and even more so when Vandran moved across the sea to land in California.

“We got a new deal on the way,” Vandran reassured his boy. “We’ll be partnered directly with a museum owner. Can you believe that?”

“No more middlemanning?” the young man teasingly mused.

The older man laughed warmly as he turned onto the parking lot of the Museum of Creative Arts.

“The owner has a very pretty daughter, I heard,” he said cryptically towards his son; who only rolled his eyes in response. “Make _friends_ , son.”

Vandran always worried about the boy’s tendency to keep people at a distance. It was how he survived the orphanage.

_The world isn’t the orphanage._

His father’s words echoed through his mind.

Fjord sighed.

“Aye oh aye!” a tiny young woman crowed a friendly greeting as the duo entered the lobby.

She had cerulean blue dyed hair clipped up with stars, a generous sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and her eyes shown warm and grey. Donned in a yellow dress that matched her star hair clips, she bounced from behind her desk, and clasped Vandran’s already extended hand in a deceptively strong grip.

“I’m Jester! Marion’s assistant and daughter!” her accent Russian, and almost… flirtatious?

Fjord’s throat suddenly went dry.

_A pretty daughter._

He nearly wanted to strangle Vandran.

“Aye oh aye, yourself,” Fjord heard himself say wryly.

Then Jester smiled at him.

_Oh. This is bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got too excited for my first story, obviously.


	3. Chapter 3

Vandran and Marion exchanged pleasantries that Thursday morning. She explained the ins and outs of the museum.

“Excuse us for the mess, we were doing a bit of remodeling,” the ethereally beautiful woman apologized in earnest. “You don’t mind having an office here outside of your home, do you, Vandran?”

“Not at all, Miss Ruby,” the older man chuckled graciously. “Nice change of scenery would do wonders for us.”

She had chestnut brown hair, the young man noted, that starkly contrasted her daughter’s dyed blue.

_Like the ocean._

Fjord shook his head. He pointedly tried to not notice the coy grin that played on Jester’s lips.

They were blatantly trailing behind. Letting the adults do the talking. The details of the business never really interested him, but he was glad it was a profession that made Vandran happy.

“I don’t think I’ve heard your name,” a low playful voice broke his thoughts.

He whipped his head around in alarm to face the short girl, who only scraped her heel against the expensive looking hardwood museum flooring in response. It made a horrible screech.

“Trainers.”

“Your name is Trainers?” her tone was suddenly an awed whisper. Like she was keeping a secret between friends.

A snort dislodged itself from the tall teen’s mouth, and a smile formed on his lips despite his initial awkwardness.

“No—no!” he covered his mouth politely to clear his throat. “I was just, uh, making an observation.”

“About what?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“The, uh,” Fjord gestured towards the girl helplessly. “Whole ensemble. Stars. Dress. Trainers. It’s… different.”

“Oh, you mean the sneakers.”

She flashed them towards the young man. They were holographic.

“Lots of girls wear dresses with sneakers,” Jester’s voice was now accusing.

_Way to blow it, deDamali._

“I mean…”

He started. But whatever half formed thought he had planned died in his throat.

Jester’s eyes bored into him.

“I’m… not good... at complimenting?” he finished, deflated.

“I can tell,” she grinned as she picked off a speck of dust from his black button-up. “But! My sneakers are _pret-ty_ cool!”

_Is… is she flirting?_

“Don’t worry, I’m not so good at talking to people either,” there was an unquestionable reassurance in her voice.

He took a deep breath.

A pause.

“It’s Fjord, by the way.”

An exhale.

“Fjord?”

“Yeah, with a ‘j’ in there. Somewhere,” another smile found him easily. He nodded.

Jester studied him as she tapped at her chin thoughtfully, “you might want to tell me where before I have your name tag say P-H-J-4-D.”

Vandran and Marion had went on ahead a long time ago, but that didn’t seem all that important then.

Fjord shrugged. “The ‘j’s in the right place, so I can’t complain.”

***

It had been a week since Fjord was properly introduced to Jester.

Their first meeting was memorable. The only regret the young man had, however, was that it had been too short.

A gasp.

Then another.

Water filled his lungs.

_“You’ll promise to come back tomorrow right?”_

It was cold.

_“Of course.”_

Bright.

_“Mama—Marion only showed you guys the regular stuff. You haven’t seen the secret passageways.”_

Yellow.

_“Sounds like something from Batman.”_

Power.

_“Right?! I found them when we first bought the museum!”_

Eye.

***

“Villain!” Devil Princess bellowed with a magically enhanced voice. She extended her arm to point at the black clad figure with her lollipop, now as long as a staff. “Leave at once! There is no need to fight!”

The wretch only cackled humorlessly.

“Sweet pea,” he drawled with a heavy Southern accent. “You’ve got no idea who you’re messin’ with!”

A surge of green hued magic erupted from his sword towards the ribboned heroine. She evaded the attack with ease, and tumbled gracefully into a resting position. Devil Princess stole a cautious glance at the damage, but only saw the hole in the concrete where a fire hydrant had been.

_That was a warning shot?!_

“Now that you’ve seen what I’ve got to offer,” the villain continued wickedly. “Kindly mosey on, eh?”

His dismissive hand wave only made her confused.

“Hey!” she gripped her lollipop staff as she turned to the figure curiously. “Are you _new_?”

The smile present on his green and teal skinned face faltered slightly.

“Pardon me?” he cupped a palm around his pointed ear. “‘M sorry, darlin’ I didn’t _quite_ catch that.”

 _A performance_ , Devil Princess theorized.

“I asked, are you a new guy?”

“Do you do this a lot?” Serpent stuck the tip of his sword into the cracked concrete, and rested his chin on the backs of his hands. “Askin’ questions? I’m The Serpent. Should I call you Lois Lane?”

“The _Serpent_?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yeah? You got a problem with it?”

“No! No… just—”

She held up a palm and a wave of pink energy flickered through her fingertips.

“All the villains around the neighborhood know me.”

“Do they?” he sounded almost annoyed. Not quite though. “Pray tell.”

“Oh! I’m Devil Princess,” she took a tentative step forward with a palm extended for a handshake.

The Serpent’s yellow eyes widened in what seemed like fear for a fraction of a second before settling into something resembling aloofness. He gingerly took her hand before slowly pulling it towards his lips place a chaste kiss.

“A gentleman?” she giggled cheerfully; thankful for her domino mask that covered her cheeks.

“A proper one, yes,” his smirk revealed two tusks that peered just outside his lower lip.

His fingers moved deftly across the blade he gripped tightly. His exposed bicep flexed with the power of the hexed magic that flowed through his body. A projection of a sea serpent emerged from his cloak.

“Which is a shame I’ll have to incapacitate you, sweetheart.”

Using her pointed tail as leverage, Devil Princess maneuvered herself out of harm’s way.

_Just in time!_

The scales of the creature had become tangible for a moment, long enough to manage a small cut on her exposed knee. She winced, but pressed herself on to find a hiding spot just around the street corner.

 _I need to get closer_ , she thought as she caught her breath. _There’s got to be a reason why he isn’t attacking from a close distance._

The heroine lived in the city all her life, which gave her an edge above her seafaring foe. It would be a big leap to assume Serpent just blown into town, and just _so_ happened to flip through the Villain Wanted Pages that day in particular. Unfortunately, it was a risk she had to take.

She peeked over the railing of the fire escape she had managed to scale with the swiftness of a cat. A cat who’d seen quite a few lifetimes, but a cat nonetheless. Serpent was still hot on her trail. He stepped slowly over the knocked over trash cans with a smirk etched firmly on his face.

_He’d be handsome if he wasn’t a bad guy._

Devil Princess crossed her arms in annoyance with an almost pout.

 _Okay. He’d be handsome regardless_ , she conceded.

“Oh, _Princess_ ,” he sing-songed, taking a step closer to her vantage point. “Not to brag, but I’m pretty good at hide an’ seek.”

She was holding her breath, willing her enchantment to make her invisible. Her heart pounded, but oddly enough, she wasn’t scared.

_Just a little closer._

“Darlin’?” He craned his neck towards the empty alleyway. “Where are you?”

_Does he sound… sad? But..._

Another step.

_He didn’t hurt anyone, right? That first attack was only directed towards me! What if—!_

“Gotcha!”

To punch such a handsome face had to be a crime.

Of which Devil Princess was guilty of.

“Ohhh my gosh, oh my gosh!!” her hands raked the villain’s left cheek in a panic that only received a wince in reply. “Are you okay? How’d you find me up there?!”

“‘S fine. I’m fine, sweetheart,” The Serpent reassured her. His ears were ringing, but he couldn’t help the broad smile that formed due to the heroine’s surprise. “I climbed up the ladder, obviously.”

“But, but! I saw you down here!” she crowed, still frantic. “And it’s not fine! I punched you!!”

“Part of the job, right?” his hand wrapped around her fingertips.

_Blue skin._

“For you and for me.”

“Don’t be stupid!” she huffed angrily, and pressed her fingers against the swelling skin just below his yellow eye. “I’ll heal you.”

A soft heat grew in his cheek. Punctuated by the pale pink light emitting from the heroine’s skin.

“That’s a mean left hook,” he breathed in wonder, eyes fluttering shut. “Might wanna start off with that next time, huh?”

“You’re an idiot,” Devil Princess couldn’t help the roll of her eyes.

“You gonna take pity on me now?”

She hummed thoughtfully as she finally pulled away from the now healed criminal.

His face felt cold, but he stood up wordlessly. Yellow eyes met violet.

“Go,” she crossed her arms defensively. “Before I change my mind.”

With that, he nodded and evaporated right in front of her eyes.

“Wha—what?!” her eyes darted across the alley. Only a foggy mist remained of the Serpent.

_How’d he do that?!_


	4. Chapter 4

When his body turned into a greenish color his second night at the hospital, he screamed.

Fjord had been passed out for more than a day, and Vandran feared his boy gone.

“The gods were on our side,” the old sailor rumbled with unrestrained emotion as the young man rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Fjord shivered.

_Which ones?_

***

No one ever hopes for a storm when they’re out at sea.

“Fjord!” Vandran shouted into the wind.

The boy had fallen overboard as a wave crashed into their small sailing ship. Vandran managed to hold tightly, but Fjord hadn’t been so lucky.

The water was inky black. He couldn’t be certain which was up and which was down. His eyes were drawn to a yellow orb in that darkness. He felt the breath leave his lungs, but his body seemed compelled to swim towards the orb—the eye.

_Uk’otoa._

The word echoed through his mind. It enveloped him—pounding through his eardrums with such ferocity, the boy feared he might go deaf.

It grew louder and louder until his fingertips made contact with the smooth surface of the glowing object.

_Reward._

Fjord died that night of the storm.

***

Rule Number One: _First impressions are important. Especially when you’re a wannabe hero._

A bullet whizzed by the red haired woman as she held her rapier in a fierce grip.

“Surrender now!” The officer commanded.

“That all you’ve got?!” She grounded out in exasperation.

It was supposed to be an easy smash and grab. Between the two would-be thieves, they knew the layout of the facility like the backs of their hands.

It should have been enough, but with the sudden change in management in just twenty four hours before their planned strike, how could they have been prepared for double the security?

Unfortunately, with their lack of proper powers, and the loss of their element of surprise, the duo knew they were done for.

The Plank King would have their heads.

_Who knew it’d go tits up immediately?_

“Have no fear, I’ve got you covered,” the black clad figure drawled smoothly as he materialized through the mist beside the police car.

“Holy—!”

A shot rang out.

“Shit!”

The bullet just barely missed the young man’s frame. A wave of freezing ocean water emanated from the falchion, obscuring the officer’s vision, and placed enough space between them.

“Are you a part of their little posse, huh?” The officer fearfully accused.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of the young sailor, _me? A bad guy?!_

“Avantika! Now’s our chance!”

Sabian launched his dagger at the display case. Shattering the last of the barriers between them and the yellow orb.

_Learn._

“Did you hear that?” Her heartbeat quickened.

_Grow._

“Hear what?”

She felt her breathing becoming more shallow as her legs moved towards the now glowing object.

“Avantika?”

She said nothing.

_Provoke._

Her hand reached out to make contact.

_Consume._

A flash of light erupted from the facility. The sheer force of it was enough to shatter the rest of the windows, and knock back the police car several feet.

Rule Number Two: _Familiarize yourself with the villains operating within the surrounding area. Lest you be mistaken for one by the local authorities._

The face of the orb shimmered in the sunlight. It had attached itself into her hand, and she could feel the power surging through her body.

“You don’t think the Plank King’ll be furious that… thing chose you?”

“No. I think this is exactly what he wanted.”

The duo stepped over the debris as sirens blared in the distance, and motioned towards their green skinned friend.

“What’s your name supposed to be?” Sabian asked curiously.

“The Serpent,” he sighed.

“And what kind of accent is that supposed to be?” Avantika asked incredulously.

“Texan.”

The woman licked her lips as she eyed The Serpent up and down. Her eyes glinted mischievously at the second orb embedded in the newcomer’s weapon of choice.

“Well… thanks for the help, _Serpent_ ,” she teased darkly as she turned to follow Sabian.

Rule Number Three: _Don’t join clearly evil organizations. Not even accidentally. Just. Don’t._

***

The day Fjord returned from his drowning scare Jester insisted she stay by his side the whole day—if only to be certain he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Staying by his side also included taking their lunches together. Two weeks had passed since this decision was made, and it became something of a routine.

“What are you drawing, Jester?”

They sat in the break room adjacent to the hotel lobby. Fjord had his homemade vegetable and beef stew while Jester had her New York strawberry cheesecake. It was a Tuesday, and being one of the slower days of the week, meant Jester had plenty of time to keep herself busy.

“Is Texas known for their fish?” She asked cryptically, completely avoiding the question. “I know Tennessee can’t be. Unless you’re counting the fish from lakes.”

Fjord raised his eyebrow curiously, but took the bait, “I mean, if I recall correctly, Texas specifically isn’t a completely landlocked state. Why do you ask?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I saw this guy a while back. He didn’t _look_ like a hero, but he did look really _cool_.”

“Ah. You want to tell me about him?”

Jester’s smile grew wider as she flipped through her sketchbook to a two page spread of various sketches of the villain Devil Princess had faced.

“His name’s _the Serpent_ ,” she began excitedly. “He uses magic, he’s got this Texan or Southern kind of accent like he’s marathoned all one hundred episodes of _The Lone Ranger_ , he’s got this sword that drips water, and he can make these ocean illusions!”

The young man’s face twisted into abject horror at the sketches. It was him. Jester had seen _him_.

_Of course she had to have seen me_ , he thought in a panic. _She lives here!_

“The Serpent?” Fjord repeated skeptically, schooling his features into resembling something calm.

The girl shushed him, luckily ignoring his flustered state, and continued, “also he’s, like, _green_ and _teal_ , he had this captain’s cloak that was torn at the bottom, and he wore all black, _and_ he looked _super_ cool with his mask!”

She pointed at a very accurate looking portrait of the character, and Fjord, despite his discomfort, didn’t have the heart to try to stop her raving.

He looked closer at her sketches, _do I really look that handsome? Or is that just her interpretation of me?_

“Uh, are you _sure_ he’s a hero?” he asked as the blush rose to his cheeks.

“Oh no, he’s a villain,” she replied matter of factly. “He was trying to steal something from somewhere, but I don’t think he saw me when I saw him.”

_Was Jester there when I made my first appearance?_

Fjord swallowed his stew anxiously.

“You shouldn’t have been so close,” he gently chided her. “He could have hurt you.”

“Aw, Fjord,” she teased as she leaned closer to him, invading his space. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I mean, uh, you definitely should get out of the way and let the heroes handle him,” he nodded. “Like Devil Princess. You’ve seen her, right?”

It was Jester’s turn to be uneasy. Her smile became tight, and she turned the page to give her already shaky hands something to do.

“She could take him on no problem,” Fjord continued brightly. “I saw she could punch holes into concrete and she uses her own magic as well.”

“I mean… she is pretty cool too,” the girl admitted, and pressed her hands together.

Hearing him compliment her, even if he didn’t necessarily _know_ it was her, had her feeling light and bouncy. She looked away from him and grinned privately to herself.

“So,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “How do you think he became a villain?”

“I have a couple of theories,” she nodded, scribbling a tiny note in Russian to try to meet the Serpent as herself if possible. “I think maybe he’s got an evil parent who wants him to take over the family business.”

“Like the Mafia?”

“Villains work like that yeah?” she wondered out loud as she took a bite of her cheesecake. “And what if you don’t have powers? What do you do if you’re the only regular person in a family of super villains?”

Fjord shrugged, “get a day job?”


End file.
